Hermione and the Weasleys
by Diminished Seventh
Summary: Summer at The Burrow, after the events of Order of the Phoenix, from Hermione's point of view. Cameo appearances by Lupin, Snape, Mundungus Fletcher and many more...
1. Ron

The summer after Order of the Phoenix, seen through Hermione's conversations with each member of the Weasley family

Please read and review. It will be much appreciated, and I promise to take all criticism very very seriously!

Hermione,

Harry's finally here, and he's ok, I think, well, a bit quiet but that's only to be expected, isn't it? I mean, he's acting like normal, talking like normal, he even mentions Sirius sometimes. We were all trying to be careful at first, Mum said not to upset him, he would talk about it when he was ready, but after a couple of days he looked ready to explode so Ginny suddenly came out with something sympathetic which made it all ok. Since then everything's been fine. I can't even remember what it was she said but I think it was pretty much what you would have come out with, except shorter. It worked anyway, maybe cos Harry was so surprised he forgot to get mad.

I don't think he would have got mad anyway, not like last summer, just you know how he hates us acting differently towards him, no matter what's happened. He said if he can survive you-know-who, then he can handle us mentioning Sirius' name, and he doesn't like being treated like an unexploded bomb. Then Fred and George said talking about unexploded bombs, they were ready to test some new products and we were all back to normal, or as normal as you can get with the twins blowing things up. Mum's going mental, she says seeing as they've got premises now, they can go cause chaos there, and though the blasting boomerangs are _really_ cool I wish they would. She keeps doing that sabre-toothed tiger thing now and it's _always_ me who gets it, cos the twins are never there. They were always good at disappearing, even before they got their apparition tests.

**_Big news_**, Dad saw Percy at work and says he came straight over, apologised for everything, and actually asked permission to come home and see Mum. Dad was a bit shell-shocked, you can imagine, it's not really like what any of us expected. This must be the first decent thing he's done in I don't know how long and apparently he also totally let rip at Fudge, called him all sorts and really laid into the Ministry, said he was ashamed to have worked in such a cowardly, corrupt, morally bankrupt institution, he was off to join Dumbledore's supporters if they'd have him, letter of resignation in the post. Obviously this was before Fudge got sacked himself. Perce didn't tell Dad about it, but Bill says it's all round the Ministry (God knows how Bill became such an expert on Ministry rumours but he's got friends everywhere). Anyway, Percy is now working for the Order, still totally ashamed of himself even though Dumbledore says it's now that matters. Dad says he shuffles around with his head down and face bright red, hardly able to look people like Kingsley and Lupin, who have been on our side all along, in the eye, but he's desperate to help any way he can. According to Dad no one else minds any more, they know he's sorry, it's just he can't forgive himself. Hates losing face, more like. He shouldn't have been such a prat in the first place, that's what I reckon, no matter what Dumbledore says. He's actually off doing Order stuff now, so none of the rest of us have seen him, but he's going to come home for a bit afterwards if he can. Mum's really pleased, she hated having the family split up and Dad so depressed, and you know she was always so proud of Percy anyway. Her, Penelope Clearwater and you are the only ones who ever liked the stupid git.

Mum says to remind you you're welcome to come whenever you want, don't wait for me to invite you cos, you know, I'd probably forget and then you'd never get here. It's a bit of a madhouse, absolutely crammed as usual, but there's always room for one more. Me and Harry both really want to see you, and so do Pig and Ginny and everyone else. Besides, you're the only one who has any idea about McGonagall's transfiguration homework – what on earth is partial metamorphosis comprising enthalpy change?

See you soon, Ron

Dear Ron,

I'd love to come, but you know I didn't see my parents for most of last year, and they really want me to stay a bit longer. I will definitely be with you for the last fortnight of the holidays though, if that's ok with your mum. I really miss all of you.

Are you absolutely sure that Harry's alright? You can be a bit insensitive sometimes, you know, and we both know how much Sirius meant to him – obviously Harry's not ok, but it does sound like he's coping. I'm so glad that Professor Dumbledore isn't keeping him so much in the dark now. Obviously he doesn't want Harry too stressed, and it makes sense that we aren't told exactly what the Order is doing. Still, it's easy to understand that Harry hates being treated like a child.

I've been reading the Daily Prophet cover-to-cover trying to follow how everything's going. How the _war_'s going, I should say, that's what they're calling it now. The new Minister seems to know what she's talking about, which isn't surprising really as she looks to have been appointed at Dumbledore's suggestion. I think she sounds scared, which I suppose is good because the thought of Voldemort back with his Death Eaters (minus 13, thank goodness!) _is_ scary. It would be worse if the Ministry was overconfident, or covering up the threat, like before.

I'm so glad about Percy! It's so brave of him to admit how wrong he was, and face everybody. It must be so difficult for him, but this is really the only honourable course he could take, and you know, Percy_ was_ a Gryffindor. I'm so pleased for your mum, as well; this must be the best news possible for her. I know you're still mad, but I'm sure once you see Percy you'll sort things out.

Keep me posted with everything that's going on, and say hello to everyone for me, I'm sending another letter to Harry. I hope you've done_ some_ homework; otherwise you won't be properly prepared to start NEWT work. Most of it is alright, but the Potions essay about catalysing effects is a bit tricky, so don't just "forget" about it until I arrive. Honestly, Ron, there's a _whole chapter_ about Enthalpy Change in 'Intermediate Transfiguration', and I'm not going to help you if you haven't even bothered to read it.

Love Hermione x

I don't even want to know about blasting boomerangs.

Hermione,

There are _four weeks_ left till school starts. Four weeks! Plenty of time for homework. And I _have_ read that chapter - I just need a wonderful, beautiful, utterly fantastic person, preferably called Hermione, to explain what the hell it means. Anyway, there are far more exciting things going on here. Percy's back, for one, which has Mum buzzing around like someone's put a few thousand cheering charms on her. He came in all shyly, and it was like meeting a stranger, we haven't seen him for so long. Dad and him are all matey now, but he looked a bit scared of us. We were all polite while Mum was there, but later on Fred and George gave him such a hard time, you know what they're like. I mean, I had been wanting to, but seeing him just take it all and say nothing back… I actually felt sorry for him. For Percy. _Percy_, the world's biggest git. Well, he is my brother, unfortunately. And once they'd said their bit even the twins were impressed. He's changed so much, Percy. He actually treats us like people now, even me and Ginny. Hell, he even listens to _Fred and George_. I think he's impressed by us all sticking by Dumbledore and Harry. God, Harry, I nearly forgot. He got the longest apology you've ever heard, and he couldn't keep a straight face till the end. Some things change, but we haven't totally got rid of PinHead Boy Percy. Anyway, he's done with the grovelling now and even starting to boss us about again.

Dad says things with the Order are going as well as can be expected. The Ministry Aurors are working with Dumbledore now, but apparently he's just told them to go on with what they would do anyway. Whatever that is. Important tactical information is staying with people Dumbledore trusts absolutely. Our place has become a sort of centre for the Order, I'm not sure what's happening with Grimmauld Place. It means there's all sorts of people traipsing in and out all the time: Moody, Tonks, McGonagall, Kingsley, Diggle, Lupin. Lupin's here a lot, talking to Harry. You know he's always good at cheering people up. Snape's _never_ here, thank God, I think he would undo all Lupin's good work and drive Harry to gibbering with the gnomes at the bottom of the garden.

Ron

Ron, you _wart_. I doubt Lupin is _cheering Harry up_. It must be awful for him, Sirius was his best friend. It's difficult for _me_ to think about Sirius gone, I can't imagine what it's like for Lupin and Harry. It's just so unfair – he was so brave, and still young, really, and he had lost so much of his life in Azkaban. I almost feel like I could kill Bellatrix Lestrange. And they were cousins, as well. Do you think it's Voldemort who makes people like that, or is it all themselves? I mean, there must be evil in you to follow him, but without him I don't suppose the Death Eaters would ever have done what they have. Or maybe it's just that because there is such a powerful Dark Wizard leading them, they think can do these evil things, kill and torture, and get away with it. That's quite frightening, that maybe it was just fear of the consequences that stopped them before. But maybe they're just in it for power, or prestige or something and have just got caught in the cruelty and viciousness… I don't understand it, and I don't really want to, but perhaps to win this war we need to understand the enemy. I'm sure that's what Dumbledore thinks – Harry said he called Voldemort "Tom". He must be trying to get to the person behind the monster. Maybe he needs that understanding to second-guess them. Maybe that's what Professor Snape is for. Can you imagine what he must have seen, what he must know? It's just…well, I don't know. I suppose we have to be brave enough to think about things that frighten us, but I am _so_ frightened already. It was seeing the Death Eaters, seeing what they were capable of, that made it all real to me. We must win this war, we've got to, because the alternative is too terrible.

Sorry, you probably get enough of all this at home, but I haven't really got anyone else to talk to about the wizarding world except you and Harry. I mean, I love my parents but they don't understand. Well, they can't, of course. I really think that there should be more communication between the muggle and wizarding worlds. We should all stand together. At the moment, witches and wizards, unless they've actually lived in the muggle world, know nothing at all about it. I mean, they think muggle inventions and things are worthless, just an inferior alternative to magic. It drives me mad – we have it so _easy_, Ron, and we're so ignorant of so many things. Muggles know so much about the world, because they've had to discover how it works. We just wave a wand and don't question what's actually happening. I bet muggle scientists could find out _what magic is_, if they only had the chance to study it. Is it fair that they're kept in ignorance?

Sorry again, I'm full of strange ideas today. I'll be at The Burrow next week, so you can laugh at me in person. Give my love to everyone, and look, don't forget about that Potions essay.

Love Hermione x

Hermione,

_Bloody hell_, Hermione. You _seriously_ need some company. I'm not saying you're not right, because you always are, but if you think about stuff like this you end up so scared/angry/confused that you're no use to anybody. Look at Fred and George. They take You-Know-Who as seriously as anyone, although you'd never guess it. It's just that they have to act as if everything's a joke, or else they'd go mad thinking about it.

There's no point in a long letter because I'll see you soon, but I had to send something, because…well, because you were freaking me out! You got me seriously worried, Granger!

See you _very_ soon, Ron

Mundungus is here - Mum's going _mental_!


	2. Ginny

A quick thanks to Tabari Avaren, whohas hopefully found this. Thanks so much for the review! The first feedback for the first chapter of my first story and it's so lovely. It really brightened up my day!

Please, all readers, leave some comment - you don't know how much I'll appreciate even just "good" or "bad". Lots and lots of love, DS x

"Hermione!"

"Ginny!"

"How _are_ you? I'm so glad you're finally here – I am so _sick_ of boys!"

Ron rolled his eyes. "Look, if you're going to have a girly chat, we're off to play quidditch. Harry?"

"Yup, see you later, Hermione." And with that, they were off, Ginny staring bemused after them.

"That was easy, I thought I was going to have to fight them for you."

Hermione smiled serenely, and blessed Ron's foresight. After he and Harry had met her at the station, he had insisted that they take a long walk around Ottery St. Catchpole before heading home, so that the three of them could catch up properly in private.

Ginny grinned in sudden understanding. "Anyway, come on up and put your stuff in my room, then _we_ can talk!" She grabbed one of Hermione's bags and they set off, passing several red heads in the kitchen as they passed.

"How many of the boys are here, Ginny?"

"All of them."

"All of them! _And_ me and Harry? _And_ Mundungus?" Hermione frowned. "I thought Charlie was still in Romania."

"He came back just before Percy did. And…hang on, didn't Ron tell you about Charlie? He came over with the Romanians."

Hermione shook her head, inwardly cursing Ron. "Romanians?"

Ginny looked incredulous. "Please tell me he mentioned the Romanians. Even Ron isn't _that_…" A quick glance at Hermione's face told the whole story. Ginny sighed and pushed open the door of her room. "Come in, sit down. The great thing about being a girl in this house is that you don't have to share with so many people. It's just the two of us in here. For now."

"How many people are staying?"

"I haven't actually counted. Family. You and Harry. The Romanians…"

"Hang on, I think you'd better explain these Romanians."

Ginny settled herself down on a beanbag and gestured at Hermione to do the same. "Ok. Well, Charlie was back working on the reservation. There are witches and wizards from all over the world there, and Dumbledore thought it would be useful to make contacts. These people all have links with their own Ministries, you know, through working with endangered species and the environment. You need government help to deal with dragons, they're so dangerous.

"Well, obviously Charlie couldn't go in there screaming about You-Know-Who being back. Fudge would have had him sacked, brought home, maybe even arrested. And of course no-one's going to believe one wizard shooting his mouth off when the Ministry were denying the whole thing. But he could prepare the ground, drop hints, make the idea seem not so incredible. There were whispers anyway, you know, because even with Fudge trying to discredit him and suppress the story, Dumbledore was kicking up one hell of a fuss. Anyway, the idea was that when everything did come out, which of course it had to, there would be people from all over the world ready to act."

"Like these Romanians?"

"Like these Romanians. Exactly. The whole wizarding world is preparing for war now, but of course everyone is hoping that You-Know-Who can be defeated in this country, so he doesn't get the chance to try anywhere else. Delegations of Aurors keep arriving from all over the place, and they've got to stay somewhere. The Romanians are with us."

"Because of Charlie?"

"Him and Emily are the only ones who speak the language, though Percy's trying to learn." She sniggered. "The other day he thought he was talking to one of them, who just kept nodding politely back. But then afterwards…"

"Emily? Who's Emily?"

"A mate of Charlie's from the reservation. She's staying here too, with her sister"

"In the Order?"

"Not really. The Order doesn't need loads of new members now that everyone knows about You-Know-Who, and the professionals are involved. Dumbledore says there's no point endangering civilians when we've got fully trained Aurors on our side."

Hermione nodded. "That makes sense. Too many people who aren't really useful don't help the Cause. We need the experts, not just everyone who hates Voldemort."

"Exactly. Emily is pretty useful, though. Speaks a lot of languages – she's helping the Ministry organise the foreign Aurors."

"And her sister?"

Ginny looked up with the air of a mischievous sprite. "Lulu. She's doing a bit of admin work, but basically she's just here because Charlie fancies her rotten."

"You're joking."

"Nope."

"Honestly…_boys_."

Ginny grinned. "I couldn't agree more. Lulu's alright, though. Quiet. But Bill likes her." That was that, then. Hermione knew that for Ginny the Word of Bill was sacrosanct. Her other brothers she treated with an affectionate disrespect, him with unquestioning adulation.

"Where has your mum put all these people?"

"Ah. Well. The house got a bit bigger."

"_What_?"

"Look out the window."

Hermione did, then rubbed her eyes and looked again. When she had been here last, Ginny's second-floor bedroom had overlooked Mrs Weasley's vegetable garden; now she could see a slate roof below, presumably not levitating there of its own accord but resting atop an extension to the building large enough to house any number of Romanians.

"It's temporary."

"Oh."

"It's only fallen down once so far, after about a week – building charms aren't Dad's speciality. Kingsley put it right, though; it's far more stable now."

"Oh." It was hard to think what else to say, except that she would have hated to see the state of the annexe before the repair job. From what she could see of it now, the structure was still ready to collapse.

"So, erm, _that's_ where the Romanian delegation is?"

"Yup, and.." Ginny swallowed back a gulp of laughter. "And…" She was shaking helplessly now, and Hermione was starting to giggle as well, even without understanding the joke. "And…_the Romanian Ambassador_!"

That was it. The thought of the Romanian Ambassador, used to being received in plush embassies and lodged in comfortable accommodation at Ministry expense, having to stay in this ramshackle, makeshift shelter and suffer Percy's small-talk, sent both girls into uncontrollable hysterics for several minutes.

Finally regaining composure, Hermione remembered a snippet of conversation from her last meeting with Ginny. "How're things going with Dean?"

"Dean?"

"Dean _Thomas_?"

"Oh. Him."

"Yes, him. Well?"

"There's nothing going on there. I was just winding Ron up. He did ask me out, and he's nice I guess, but…well, anyway, nothing's happening."

"Oh."

"Ron's desperate for me to get together with Harry, have you noticed?"

"Hmm, yes. He's not exactly subtle, is he? It was pretty obvious what he was thinking when we were last on the Hogwarts Express."

"Exactly. And now he keeps pushing us together. It's annoying. And embarrassing."

"He means well…"

"I can sort out my own love life, Hermione."

"I know! You're practically fighting them off at Hogwarts. But Harry's out of the question, then?"

"Well, I dunno. I mean, I didn't know him before. And now I do. We're friends, I think. Why mess that up? Of course I _like_ him, but... if I'm not sure it's what I want, it would hardly be fair on Harry, would it? Everything would be bound to go wrong, and then where would we be? Messed up friendship, messed up relationship, Harry even more stressed out… It's all irrelevant really, because I know he just doesn't see me like that. I mean…well, what do you think?"

"I think…I think you're right. And I think a girlfriend is a complication that Harry really doesn't need right now. He's kind of got other things to think about. Like Voldemort. The war. Avoiding getting killed."

"All very important matters."

"Yes."

"Hermione, do you think you can get Ron to just lay off a bit? Harry hasn't noticed yet, but he will, and that would be really awkward."

"Sure, Ron usually sees sense eventually. After you've beaten it into his skull. Believe me, I'm an _expert_ at beating things into Ron's skull."

Ginny laughed. "Brilliant, thanks. Do you want to go forage for some food?"

"That would be great."

As they headed to the kitchen, Hermione tripped over a figure, sleeping soundly on the stairs, which looked like a bundle of clothes and smelt of strong pipe tobacco.

"Oh, I'm so sorry, Mundungus…"

"Eurghnurgh," he muttered, pulling himself up and seeming to sleepwalk heavily away.

Hermione looked after him in concern. "Is he alright?"

"Oh, I should think so," replied Ginny cheerfully, rummaging through a cupboard. "How about cheese on toast? I can just about manage that."

"Fine. You know, he really didn't look well…"

"Well, he's not, exactly. He bought some dodgy potions ingredients to sell on, but some of the stuff got mixed up and formed something nasty. And of course, being unregulated, everything was a few times stronger than it should have been, and he was handling it without safety gear. He's just stopped throwing up. Now he keeps falling asleep. Bill reckons he'll turn green next."

"Can't anyone do anything? Can't he see someone at St Mungo's?"

"Not without explaining what happened. Anyway, Snape said the effects wouldn't be dangerous, just "unpleasant". With that horrible sneer on his face, you know, like other people's problems are beneath him."

"You've seen Snape, then?"

"Nah, but I got the whole story from Bill and 'Dung. 'Dung says the antidote Snape gave him tasted so awful he preferred the throwing up, and he was sure the slimy git did it on purpose."

Hermione smiled. Typical Mundungus. And typical Snape. She wouldn't put it past him to make the potion deliberately disgusting.

"Mum's furious, of course. 'Dung isn't her favourite person anyway, and she's only letting him stay because Bill sweet-talked her into it."

"Why does he need to stay here?"

"Got chucked out of his last place for storing stolen goods."

"Ah."

"Exactly."

After they had finished eating and were just starting to discuss Dean Thomas' suitability as potential boyfriend, the kitchen door creaked and a girl's head popped around it. Spotting them, the newcomer entered and Hermione immediately noticed shining chestnut hair, rosy cheeks and glasses with angular black frames. Pretty and smiling, the twentysomething stranger also radiated freshness and energy.

"Hiya Ginny. You must be Hermione! I've been hearing about you all summer. I'm Emily Appleby, how do you do?" She had the sort of cut-glass English accent that Hermione had never heard in anyone except the royal family, and was now balancing a heap of files, paper and clipboard in one arm whilst affably holding out the other hand. Hermione shook it, replying that she was very well, thank you and pleased to meet you.

"Likewise. I must dash, I'm afraid. Have you seen the Romanian Ambassador? No? Oh dear. Never mind, I'm sure he can't have gone far, except he was really supposed to be in a meeting ten minutes ago. I do hope he hasn't forgotten; it's with the Head of the Department of International Magical Co-operation and several other Ambassadors… I should be there to interpret and as I'm _not_ I suppose they're all sitting in silence – none of them speak a word of the others' languages… Well no, that's unfair. I suppose they might manage hello, but in a key diplomatic meeting one generally needs more than 'hello'… Oh, Mr Smith!" Apparently having spotted the errant Ambassador out of the window, she sprinted elegantly out, switching effortlessly into a stream of explanatory-sounding Romanian as she left. Hermione watched with interest as Emily caught up with a confused looking man on the lawn and politely but firmly steered him towards the house, all the while talking deferentially and balancing her mountain of paperwork in the crook of one elbow. She smiled brightly to the girls on her way past the kitchen and guided the Ambassador into the living room and into the Floo-connected fireplace. In a roar of green flame they were gone, leaving a stunned silence behind.

Hermione met Ginny's eyes. "Well."

"That was Emily."

"I guessed. Is she always like that?"

"She's always that efficient, yeah. And that calm. She never gets flustered or anything. Charlie says it's 'cos her parents are both diplomats, which is where the languages come from as well. She doesn't usually burble on like that though, only when she's thinking hard about something completely different."

"Completely different to what?"

"To what she's talking about."

"Oh. She seems nice."

"She is. And she's cleverer than she looks."

"What was she doing at the reservation?"

"Running it, basically. She was in charge of everything: the organisation, the money, liaising with the Ministry. But she's a fully trained dragon handler as well. You can imagine it, can't you? She probably just tells the dragons what to do and they don't dare disobey."

Hermione gave a small sideways smile. "Like the Romanian Ambassador?"

Ginny nodded impishly. "_Exactly_ like the Romanian Ambassador."


	3. Bill

Hey! Thanks again Tabari Avaren, and Cecelle. As this very perceptive reviewer pointed out, Mr Smith is a strange name for the Romanian Ambassador. There is a reason, however, for this anomaly- I made a mistake! I was using Smith as a placeholder until I found a Romanian name, but then I forgot and posted the chapter. For anyone who's interested, the Ambassador's real name is Mr Reprezentant. Anyway, enjoy this chapter; I really enjoyed writing it, but can't tell objectively whether it's the best or the worst so far. I need your reviews! Lots of love, d7th

It was evening on the fourth day of Hermione's stay at The Burrow. She was sitting alone at the Weasleys' kitchen table in the dim light of the magical candles, and she was trying to understand a particularly obscure aspect of Ancient Greek Arithmancy which seemed to bypass the normal realms of logic. In the next room, behind Extendable Ear-proof doors, an Order meeting was underway and had been for several hours. Hermione was trying to concentrate on the complicated number tables in front of her, but her thoughts kept straying to what was happening there, which was surely far more important. For the last twenty minutes she had been making up her mind to just give up and go to bed, but she knew she wouldn't sleep and was in fact happier where she was. Harry, Ron and Ginny were upstairs talking quidditch, and whilst the rest of the clan were safely ensconced in the living room Hermione intended to enjoy some much needed solitude, silence and space – commodities rare in the Weasley household. Although she loved The Burrow's friendly bustle, the unexpected peace was wonderful and she luxuriated in it.

Or she did, until Bill arrived.

The oldest of the Weasley siblings looked tired and on edge. Judging by his start of surprise at seeing her, Bill had obviously expected to find the kitchen empty, but he quickly recovered and addressed her with his usual careless charm.

"Hermione. You'd better not let Mum catch you still up, it's…" He checked his watch, "nearly one in the morning. What are you up to? Not studying, surely?"

"Not exactly. Is the meeting finished?"

"A while ago, but it looks like they'll be making a night of it. These meetings always end with everyone who's got nothing urgent to do sitting round talking and getting depressed. I came in here to escape." He flashed her his easy attractive smile as he reached up to open a cupboard, then stood frowning abstractedly at its contents. "Do you want a drink?"

"No, thank you. Bill?"

"Mmmh?" Now he was pouring what looked like Firewhisky into a heavy glass.

"Do you want some space? Because I was going to go to bed soon, anyway. If you wanted to be on your own, I mean…" Hermione trailed off awkwardly. She didn't know Bill very well, and was always slightly nervous speaking to him. He was so assured and confident, his brothers and sisters deferred to him in everything and she knew he also had the respect and trust of Order members much older and more experienced than himself. Just now, though, he had looked very young and completely drained. Hermione guessed that he had come out of the meeting wanting to slump down in exhaustion only to find a guest requiring his courtesy. Guilt that her presence was denying him respite had prompted her offer to leave.

He turned round and smiled at her again. "It's fine. I just had to get away from Order stuff."

Hermione knew that he was not telling the whole truth, but knew also that it was as much of the truth as she was going to get. Whatever the problem, Bill was hardly going to confide in her.

Apparently considering the subject closed, he had arrived noiselessly behind her and was looking over her head at the Arithmancy, wincing as he recognised the diagrams.

"'Not exactly' studying, I see what you mean. That's way past NEWT level. What's the book?"

"Arithmancy of the Ancients."

"I know it. Used in training for Gringotts. A lot of the security curses there are based on Arithmantical theory, though not all of them, of course. The really important stuff uses mathematics. Muggle mathematics, you know, that inferior alternative to magic."

For a moment Hermione wondered why the words sounded familiar, then a jolt of sudden enlightenment hit her and she turned round to confront him. Or tried to. She had to twist 180° and crane her neck to see him, and she felt slightly ridiculous.

"Sorry. Hang on." He pulled out the chair beside her and sat, trying unsuccessfully to conceal a smile, which Hermione reluctantly returned.

"Did Ron say..."

"Not in so many words, but whenever he starts talking earnestly about wizarding issues it's a fair bet that you've been making him think again."

"I…oh. I didn't realise he was taking it seriously."

Bill raised an eyebrow. "Oh, yes. Wizarding-Muggle relations were the hot topic of debate just before you arrived. And the Death Eaters' underlying motives. Was that you as well?"

Hermione nodded dumbly. To her surprise, a warm feeling of happiness was spreading through her and she wanted to hug someone. She had often felt, when explaining her ideas to Ron and Harry, that she was talking into a vacuum, that they were merely humouring her. Finding out otherwise was…well, it was nice. Looking up, she noticed that Bill was watching her intently. Immediately, she was embarrassed.

"Sorry. That just surprised me."

"Obviously. I think you're right, by the way, about muggle knowledge. Vastly superior to ours in most ways. And a lot of the technology is useful even for people who can use magic. Like mobile phones. Fantastic."

Hermione couldn't help but stare at him in surprise, as he downed the Firewhisky and looked calmly back at her. She had never before met a pureblood wizard who knew anything about muggles. There was Mr Weasley, of course, but he was fond of muggles in the way one might be fond of a favourite pet. Of course he hated cruelty to the poor creatures, and thought one should be kind to them, but he would never consider them equals. This patronising attitude of "Bless the poor things" had always grated on Hermione. Bill's feelings were obviously different. He seemed, astonishingly enough, to be familiar with the real Muggle world.

As Hermione was busy processing this, Bill had started to glance through her book, frowning very slightly as he turned the leaves with one elegant hand. He looked up and, noticing her attention now focused on him, slid it back across to her apologetically. "It's difficult stuff. Do you follow all of it?"

"I didn't immediately, but I've been working pretty hard all summer trying to understand. I bought the book a while ago, but what with the exams and everything else I just haven't had the time to go into it properly until now. I've hit a bit of a brick wall here, though – I just can't follow what's going on."

Bill took the book again and found the page she had been looking at. "Here?"

"That's right."

"I'm not surprised you don't understand that. You won't have the maths." He smiled up at her. "Muggle maths again. You need it for advanced Arithmancy – only _very_ advanced Arithmancy, mind - but it isn't taught at wizarding schools. Fair enough, I suppose; most wizards never need it. In fact, I shouldn't think most wizards know it exists."

"But you…"

"Well, I work for a bank. Gringotts make sure all their recruits are fairly numerate. The goblins are still pretty sceptical about wizards doing sums, though – a supervisor double-checked all my work for a year after I qualified." He gave a rueful grin. "It was pretty humiliating, this little creature tutting at my arithmetic."

Hermione smiled back at him. "But you understand this?"

"Oh yes. I am quite the mathematician now." Bill looked at her appraisingly. "How tired are you?"

"Not at all."

"Do you fancy a calculus lesson?"

One hour later, Order members were still gathered in the living-room, everyone upstairs was long asleep, and Hermione and Bill had reached third differentials. They were so absorbed that a glow of green flame went unnoticed. The figure appearing out of the fireplace, however, was impossible to miss.

"Am I interrupting?" The silky tones of Professor Snape were unmistakable, as was the severe, black-garbed figure who flicked ash from his robes then stood looking at them interrogatively, with his lip curling in innuendo and one sardonic eyebrow raised.

Hermione was suddenly aware of how close she and Bill had drawn together; how animatedly they had been talking; how this must look, the two of them alone at this time of night when she should be in bed, and he should be next door with the others. She felt herself blush scarlet as Snape's gaze took in Bill's hand, resting lightly on her forearm from the eager emphasis of some point, and the bottle of Firewhisky left forgotten on the counter. She felt Bill tense, then he pressed her arm gently, before slowly withdrawing his hand to lean back casually with arms folded, his eyes fixed unwavering on Snape. Self-assured, handsome and slightly contemptuous, for a moment he was Sirius, and the likeness obviously struck Snape as forcibly as it did Hermione, for he paled visibly. Before he could start forward in anger, however, Bill spoke and the spell was broken. The disdain that had so uncharacteristically flickered across his face was gone; now he was measured, polite and respectful.

"Can I help, Professor?"

"Lupin and Fletcher. I have prepared potions for both of them."

"Of course. Remus is next door, I'll show you through." Bill stood up and gestured for Snape to follow him. "If you can see a bundle of green curled up anywhere it's probably Mundungus," he added dryly, then winked at Hermione as he led the other man away.

Within ten minutes he was back. "Where were we up to?"

"Coffee break," said Hermione firmly, tapping the kettle with her wand.

"I'll do it."

"No, I will. You sit down." Bill obeyed without further remonstrance, and Hermione carried over two steaming drinks.

"Thanks. I was in desperate need of that." He stretched out his limbs and yawned, before reaching for the mug.

"You look like you're in desperate need of sleep."

"Terminal insomniac."

"Seriously? Do you usually spend your nights with definite integrals?"

"No, I usually spend my nights tossing and turning in bed, or talking Voldemort with Dad or Perce. Calculus is a vast improvement."

Hermione opened her mouth to speak, stopped, tried once more and again pulled up short. Aware of Bill watching, amused yet bemused, she cursed her idiocy and took a deep breath before finally asking the question that had been bothering her all night.

"Why were you so desperate to get out of that meeting?"

For a moment Bill was completely still, and she realised for the first time how completely controlled was his every movement that seemed so artlessly graceful. He appeared to be considering how best to answer, or indeed whether he should. Seeming to reach a decision, he turned to face her and began to explain, at first grasping uncertainly for words, then growing in confidence to become ever more fluent and forceful.

"The Order are a pretty mixed group," he began. "People joined for all sorts of reasons. Well…no, they all joined because they wanted to fight against Voldemort, but…well, what they think about the war is different. Generally they fall between two extremes. There are the kids, like Percy and Tonks, who just haven't taken in the reality of what we're facing; they assume we simply must win eventually. I mean, they semm to agree about how great is the danger that we're facing, but they haven't the imagination to really understand it. They're going to be disillusioned very quickly, and I…well, I feel too much of a coward to watch that." He stared moodily down at his hands before continuing.

"Then there are survivors from the first war: McGonagall, Hagrid, Lupin – Lupin especially. Have you seen him?"

She shook her head.

"God, Hermione, he's just so…so…It isn't like he's angry, or miserable, or wretched, though of course he is. He's lost so many people, and now he doesn't seem to care about anything except that Voldemort is defeated. No, that's not quite true; he cares about Harry, and people in the Order. He doesn't care what happens to him, though, and he won't look after himself. He's tired and he's ill, but he won't stop, won't take it easy. And all this, all this despair and pain, it's there, but he hardly shows it. He's almost like he was; he's kind, and polite, and capable and brave. He's existing. But there's something gone - it's like he's got nothing left to live for, and it's just shattering to see."

Hermione could only sit in silence. What words could make this any better? Besides, Bill seemed almost to have forgotten her, trapped in his own thoughts. It was a while before he spoke again, but when he did he had shaken off his melancholy and even managed a small smile.

"Of course there's also Snape, who I just can't figure out. The work he's doing for the Order is amazing; you can't help but respect him for it – at least when he's not actually here. I mean, it's easy to forget just how unpleasant that man really is." He shook his head incredulously. "Like before, when he arrived – that was just _nasty_!"

Hermione laughingly agreed, then stopped still at the sound of footsteps just outside the room. Bill obviously heard them too, for he swiftly gathered up her books, glanced quickly around the room for any other traces of her presence, then gently steered her towards the other door.

"That'll be Mum showing Snape out. I'd rather not explain to her what you're still doing here and I'm sure you feel the same, so…"

Hermione didn't need telling twice. She slipped quietly out of the room and upstairs, smiling at the muffled sound of Bill's voice, which seemed to be keeping up a constant flow of farewells that prevented Snape from getting in a word edgeways. With some luck, Mrs Weasley need never know about her eldest son's collusion in Hermione's very late night, and that was just as well for both of them. The Weasley siblings were all daring, audacious and brave – except when it came to argument with their mother.


	4. Fred and George

Thank you, Cecelle and Emeria! Lupin is appearing briefly at the end of this chapter, so hopeyou enjoy!

Please review -I promise that if you do, I will r and r you!

"Aha, Sleeping Beauty has awoken!" A familiar freckled face grinned wickedly at Hermione across the Weasley breakfast table.

"Morning, Fred. You're not looking too wide-awake yourself."

"The result of a late-night business trip."

"Weasley's Wizard Wheezes don't make themselves, you know…"

"…and it's amazing how many of our suppliers don't come out by day."

Hermione shook her head amusedly. "You mean the two of you've been skulking around Knockturn Alley, trying to find some of that stuff that's turned Mundungus green."

"Well…"

"Did you get it?"

"Oh yes."

"And it works?"

"Like a charm."

"Which is strange, considering that it's actually a potion…"

"And a damned good one."

"Oh yes." Two identical evil sniggers. Hermione looked from one twin to the other, understanding finally penetrating into her dulled-by-sleep brain.

"Oh _no_. What did you do?"

"Seen Ron this morning?"

She shook her head wordlessly.

"Walking advert for Slytherin House, he is."

"You mean…he's _green_?"

George gave a satisfied smirk. "All over. We put it in his cornflakes."

Hermione laughed. "But there's an antidote, right?"

"There will be..."

"…we're working on it now..."

"…it should be ready by the end of the holidays."

The thought of Ron, bright green with flaming red hair, was arresting, and Hermione spluttered through her orange juice as she imagined his fury. Fred, meanwhile, had other preoccupations.

"That's really all by the by. The fact is - we have a legitimate reason for a little extra slumber. As does Looby-Loo here." He nodded at a fourth breakfaster. "You, meanwhile, are usually up with the merry lark. What happened? Someone slip you a sleeping potion?"

"Not unless it was you. Lulu, have they been so obnoxious all morning, or was it reserved especially for me?"

"Well, before you arrived I was being lectured on my love life. Obnoxiously."

Hermione gave her a sympathetic smile. She had found the second Appleby sister not at all how she had imagined after hearing of Charlie's adoration, and the real thing was far better than the idea. Lulu was quiet and nondescript, thoughtful and pleasant, with none of Emily's sparkling charm or skill for management but instead a diffidence of manner that concealed a generous yet astute mind and enormous ability in her own field. The only witch Hermione knew to work entirely in the muggle world, Lulu gave flute lessons by day and played in various groups and venues by night. She was talented and fairly successful, though lacking the ruthlessness which might have taken her to the highest level - there are many gifted musicians and few jobs for them, so only the most ambitious can rise to the top. Lulu, however, was happy in her niche; there was no relentless pressure, and her working hours kept the instrument a pleasure, not a duty. She was content and serene, and this made her very attractive – Charlie was smitten. Fred and George, in an unusual demonstration of fraternal benevolence, had obviously decided to help his suit, but in Lulu they had met a sureness of purpose disguised by gentleness of manner that was impossible to cajole, badger or sway in any way. The immensity of their task was beginning to dawn on George, and he now tried to enlist Hermione's support.

"You see, Hermione, she insists she won't have him, but we know that really they're perfect for each other…"

"…and it fits in the grand plan…"

"…it _completes_ the grand plan!"

"Erm…hang on." The twins gazed at her expectantly. "What's this grand plan?"

"Ahh, well…" Fred looked extremely satisfied with himself. "If Lu here would only make up her mind to like Charlie…"

"I do_ like_ Charlie, but…"

He continued blithely, "then we just get Emily and Bill together…."

"What?"

The twins looked at her in polite curiosity, and Hermione prayed not to blush. She grasped lamely for an explanation. "I…I thought Bill was already seeing someone. Fleur. Fleur Delacour?"

"Ah, the bewitching Mademoiselle. That was nothing. I think Bill flirted with her a bit, but…well, Bill flirts with everyone, he really does."

"Can't help himself, he just has to see a woman and out comes that Weasley charm…"

"..I'm sure I caught him flirting with McGonagall the other day…"

"You're joking – I didn't think he'd dare. What happened?"

"…well, she didn't transfigure him into a turnip, so I assume he got away with it…"

"Who'd have thought it? That old battleaxe getting susceptible…"

"…I know! He should give lessons in seduction…"

"…I'd sign up like a shot…"

Hermione cleared her throat meaningfully, and they assumed identical sheepish-yet-unrepentant expressions.

"You were saying? Charlie and Lu, Emily and Bill… why those two, by the way? Just because they're the eldest siblings?"

"Well, partly that, but not_ just_ that. They _would_ be good together!"

"They're very similar, you know."

"Both act like amiable idiots…"

"…whilst in fact being far too clever for their own good."

"And other people's."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "You're still mad about that Blasting Boomerang, aren't you?"

"Of course not!" said George, reproachfully. "We would never bear a grudge over something so trivial, so insignificant, so slight."

"Although…" added Fred, "it did hurt our professional pride, just a little."

Hermione smiled at the remembrance. Emily had not only been the first target to successfully dodge a Blasting Boomerang, but had also managed to purloin some of the prototype products and trap the twins with their own merchandise. Twice. This had made her somewhat of a heroine among the many victims of Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes, but had also acquired her two identical enemies for life. Hermione strongly suspected that the twins were hatching some atrocious plot of revenge, but she didn't think this was it. Bill was no punishment, surely? Quite the opposite…

She mentally shook herself, and hoped no one at the table could practise Legilimency. She really had to stop thinking like this – if anyone were to find out it would be extremely embarrassing and awkward and difficult - for her and for…that person whose name she wasn't going to say again, even to herself. He had enough to deal with already, without her silly adolescent crush…after he'd been so kind to her, as well! It was really most unfair of her, although obviously she hadn't _wanted_ to feel like this, and was not _enjoying_ feeling like this, and was frankly rather annoyed that she couldn't _stop_ herself feeling like this. She could, however, stop thinking about it. And him. Put him out of her mind. Ignore her idiotic hormones. And for God's sake pull herself together and carry on with this bloody conversation, which had now been waiting for her contribution for rather a long time.

As Hermione snapped back into reality, she noticed Lulu looking at her in vague concern, and the twins with a sort of detached scientific interest. Feeling extremely stupid, she hurriedly tried to steer them all back to the original point. "So who else fits into this grand plan, then?"

George gave her a final questioning scrutiny, then shrugged and began to talk. "Well, with the aid of some mind-altering substances, we convince you to take on Ron."

"What?"

"You could have Percy, instead, if you like."

"No!"

Fred sighed. "We thought you might react like that. Too much taste, that's your trouble. Never mind, we'll pass over those two no-hopers for the moment, and…"

Hermione felt she had to protest, and interjected, "They're not _no-hopers_, Fred."

"Fine, fine. Have it your way. The fact remains, though, that you don't want to become Mrs Weasley."

"Absolutely not."

"You see!"

"When I marry, I intend to keep my own name."

He opened his mouth to reply but, realising he had nothing to say, laughed instead and held up his hands in surrender. "Damn, I'd quite like to have you in the family."

"You could always marry me yourself."

"You're too clever by half!"

Peeves the poltergeist had a certain expression which would always appear on his face as an unwitting student walked towards a door on top of which he had balanced a bowl of custard. It mingled awareness of the unfortunate's unavoidable fate, regret at their stupidity, and a certain glee at his role in the whole business. This was exactly the look that George now directed at his brother as he asked innocently, "What does that say about Angelina, then?"

Fred held his head in his hands and groaned.

Three slices of toast later, Hermione felt able to broach the subject again.

"Where do you fit into the grand plan then, George?"

"Well, apparently there is another Appleby girl."

"I don't know why you say 'apparently'," remarked Lulu. "Polly definitely exists."

"Of course she does. And judging by her sisters, she is utterly wonderful and I shall fall madly in love with her."

"And her with you?"

"Third time lucky, surely, seeing as neither you nor Emily have succumbed to my charms."

Lulu smiled at him. "And we, of course, are intended for other Weasleys."

"Of course."

Hermione was curious. "Is Polly younger than you, Lu? Where is she?"

"The youngest of us, yes. She's at university in Heidelberg."

"Heidelberg, that's in…Germany?"

"That's right. A beautiful old German town. Polly loves it there."

"Wow. What's she studying?"

"Mythology of Magic. Heidelberg has the very best course and all the leading experts are based there."

"Wow," said Hermione again, with a growing admiration for this girl she had never met. Of course George was right, every member of this family seemed to be extraordinary. "She must be good."

"She is," Lulu smiled. "We're all proud of her."

"Way too good for you, anyway, bro" said Fred pointedly.

George sighed. "I fear you're right."

Soon afterwards, the twins left on 'business', and Lulu sighed in relief as the green Floo flame flickered behind them. "I'm very fond of both of them, really I am, but they don't leave you anywhere to hide, do they?"

"No," Hermione agreed, thinking of her rogue Bill-feelings that kept threatening to spill out into the open. It occurred to her, however, that these weren't what her companion was referring to. "Why, what have you got to hide?"

Lulu turned a little pink, and Hermione realised what she had just asked. "Sorry," she said awkwardly.

"It's ok," Lulu shrugged. "I don't mind telling you…if you don't mind listening?" She looked a little shy, and Hermione felt for her.

"Of course not! Go on."

"Well…it's just about Charlie."

"Ah."

Lulu looked at her sharply. "Are you sure you don't mind me…"

"I'm sure."

Lulu nodded, looking calmer. "Charlie. I don't feel about him like he does about me. I can't. I like him, I like him a lot, but that isn't enough. I can't give him what he wants from me."

"Have you told him?"

"I don't have to. He knows. He's so understanding and so kind that I just _wish_ I could be who he wants, but I can't."

"Of course you can't, and you shouldn't try to be. Why should you change for someone else?"

"Oh, I know all that." Lulu smiled sadly. "I would never even have considered it, I would have been horrified at the very idea…before Charlie."

"What's changed?"

"I don't know… I never realised before that someone so wonderful could want me, and I wouldn't want them. It's strange. I mean, I thought love and attraction and all that would just grow out of liking and respecting someone. I never believed in that rubbish about love at first sight with one special person. But apparently that's what I'm waiting for." She shrugged again, apparently frustrated with the illogicality of her own feelings.

"You just haven't met someone yet who you can like and respect and love. It will happen though."

"Oh really? You can guarantee that?"

"No, but I can tell you it's more likely than love at first sight, thunderbolts from the blue, sentiment overtaking your reason over some idiot who's attractive but not much else. That's not going to happen to you, Lu – you couldn't love someone who didn't deserve it. It's just not going to be Charlie, that's all."

Lulu gave a small smile. "I hope you're right. You make a lot of sense. But at least I'm not, and at least Charlie's not, stupid enough or selfish enough to think that love is the most important thing, not during this war, anyway. We don't win it, there isn't a future to worry about."

They were reminded of this soon afterwards, with the arrival of Lupin and Snape in the fireplace. Snape took one scornful look at the two of them, then snarled, "Where's Weasley?"

"Which one?" responded Hermione, irritated. Snape might not condescend to use first names, but she wasn't playing Guess Who? just to sustain his superiority complex.

"Arthur," interposed Lupin before the other man could reply. "Have you seen him?" Although he was smiling gently, he looked tense and anxious, more so than usual, and Hermione was suddenly frightened.

"Isn't he at work?" she asked with foreboding.

"It's alright," Lupin reassured her. "He's been called out to look at a dancing lawnmower, but we need to speak to him and were hoping we might catch him here. Severus, do you want to wait and see if he turns up, and I'll try to find out where he went?"

"I'll go," said Snape curtly, and he marched straight into the fireplace and off. Lupin shrugged and sat down, whilst Hermione couldn't help but let out a sigh of relief. Lupin smiled at her again, with more like his old smile, and nodded a greeting to Lulu.

"Ron said Professor Snape never came here," said Hermione, "but that's twice in two days."

"Twice?" said Lulu puzzled, and Lupin was also looking interested. Hermione couldn't believe what she had just said. She wasn't supposed to know about last night. She groaned inwardly. Now she was going to have to lie, and she was sure Lupin could spot a liar at a hundred paces.

"I thought I heard his voice last night. Was I wrong?" Good. She had got the expression just right – slight guilt at having heard, otherwise light and casual.

"Oh, well I had a gig in the village, so I wouldn't know," Lulu explained as her face cleared. It was Lupin, however, that Hermione was interested in. He didn't look suspicious, fortunately.

"Yes, Professor Snape was at the meeting. Not for long, though."

"Oh, right. The rest of you seemed to be in there for ages, though."

"I suppose so." He yawned. "I'm glad it's Professor Snape gallivanting after Arthur, not me. Just don't let me fall asleep – that wouldn't look very professional, would it?"

He believed her. Good. Why would he not? If she had been up to anything, she would hardly have drawn attention to it so stupidly and so obviously, would she? Hermione sighed. That late night with Bill had obviously affected her brain.


	5. Percy

Thanks, reviewers, especially cecelle for taking the time to give me such a thorough and thoughtful review. Keep reading!

* * *

"So how's the summer been?"

"Oh…fine. Fine, I suppose. Considering."

"Considering what?"

"Everything."

"Yes, well. It'll get better, Hermione. It really will. Just don't you worry, and try to keep Harry from…from dwelling on things, and from trying to take responsibility for everything."

"Of course."

"And don't worry."

"Right."

_Don't worry_, coming from the man who looked more tired and ill than ever, who seemed never to stop worrying? Lupin seemed to read her thoughts, as usual, and gave a little smile. "I mean it, Hermione."

"I know." They should talk about something else – the mood had been pretty grim ever since Lulu had disappeared to practise her flute. "Is there no chance you'll come back to teach at Hogwarts, then? You know you've become a bit of a legend."

He grinned boyishly. "Really?"

"Oh yes. Every first-year hears the story about Neville and the Boggart."

The smile broadened. "I doubt Professor Snape will ever forgive me."

That had cheered him up. Good.

"I loved teaching," he continued pensively, "and of course it gave me an excuse to get hold of some Dark Creatures. Third-years don't really need to see _real_ Kappas and Red-Caps, but it makes it all a bit more interesting."

"For who?"

"Well…me." He chuckled. "Self-interest all the way!"

Hermione smiled back at him. Lupin had been a fantastic teacher, the best they had ever had, and the enthusiasm that made him bring real Dark Creatures to class was exactly what had made him so good. Self-interest, indeed! The man was damn near selfless.

"Lupin!" barked the fireplace. No. Obviously the fireplace didn't bark, Snape barked. Snape was in the fireplace. It therefore seemed, momentarily, as if the fireplace barked. Finite. Except that the barking Snape had now stopped barking, and was glaring at her while she sat for some reason explaining to herself that her Potions Master was not a fireplace. Which she already knew. She was going mad, obviously, and she had better work out why he was looking at her like that or else insanity would be the least of her worries, which was in itself a worry as she couldn't think of anything more frightening than losing her mind. Except the wrath of Snape. Snape had obviously found Arthur, and the two of them plus Lupin now looked ready to begin important discussions. Important Order discussions. Which were private. Ah. Goddit.

"I'll be off then," said Hermione breezily, and hopped off her chair and out of the room as fast as she possibly could. Closing the door she smiled winningly at them all: angry Snape, relieved Arthur and a highly amused Lupin. Perhaps she should go back to bed; obviously today she was not the sharpest claw on the Hungarian Horntail.

Leaving the kitchen, though, she walked straight into Percy.

"Oops, sorry, Hermione."

"It's fine. Are you looking for something?"

"Some papers, I've left them somewhere and…what? Why are you looking at me like…they're not Order papers! I wouldn't leave important stuff lying around, you know! I…what? What are you laughing at?"

"Sorry, Percy…it's just not like you to lose stuff. Good to find out you are fallible after all!"

"Of course I'm fallible," he said stiffly. "That much should be obvious after last year." With that, he stalked off upstairs, leaving Hermione gobsmacked and remembering, too late, that Percy had never had much of a sense of humour. She dithered a moment then followed him.

"Percy?" She tapped gently on the door and, hearing some sort of sound from within, pushed it open and entered.

"Hermione. Hi. I'm sorry I snapped - I'm such an _idiot_ sometimes."

"Aren't we all? Look, do you need a hand finding this stuff?"

"It wasn't important. Thanks anyway, though."

"No problem." There was a short silence, and Hermione took the opportunity to have a look around her. Percy's room was more of an office than a bedroom, with papers and files stacked on shelves around each wall; lists and memos pinned up in any available space or just levitating in the air; and a huge, immaculate desk covered with neat piles of paper, quills, and – wow! – a small Pensieve.

"Percy, what do you _do_ in here?"

"Hermione," came the pompous reply, "considering that I have just begun to atone for my grievous misjudgements of last year, do you really think it would be wise of me to start spilling out the secrets of the Order?"

Hermione was immediately abashed and began to apologise, when she noticed the beginnings of a grin forming at the corners of his mouth.

"_Percy_!"

"Sorry, couldn't resist." He smiled sheepishly, but there was a glint in his eye that reminded her uncomfortably of Fred and George.

"So you do have a sense of humour."

"It's not very well-developed, Hermione. I wouldn't test it."

She snorted. "I'll bear that in mind. So is this all top-secret?"

"Nah. Admin, PR, Ministry liaison stuff. That's pretty much what I do. It's not massively exciting, and it's not that important, but I am good at it."

"I bet you are. Why PR, though? Spin is more a Ministry thing, isn't it…"

"It isn't _spin_. It's just controlled release of information. We wouldn't want to keep everything we're doing secret. Of course we tell people when we've caught Death Eaters, or when we think they might be planning something – or we tell the Prophet, anyway, and they print it. We don't want them ferreting about for rumours because we never give them anything. Or, just to spite us, printing stuff that we needed kept quiet. I know it doesn't sound terribly glamorous, but you have to have a professional relationship with the press, or else you're sunk. The Prophet guides public opinion totally."

"Don't I know it. Isn't this a bit…manipulative, though?"

"Perhaps. But, Hermione, everything the Order does is pretty above-board. We're not creating a smokescreen to prevent our own interests. Afterwards, when this is over, then we can tell the world exactly how we did it, if the world cares. But we're doing covert stuff now, that's the whole point of the Order – it's just basic common sense to keep the information secret."

"Yeah, ok. And you're in charge of all of this?"

"Pretty much. But the Ministry people help out, Lulu does, and the rest of the Order. Bill's quite good if I have to lie to the Ministry."

Hermione raised her eyebrows.

"To stop them interfering! And for security – we still don't know who to trust there."

"O….kay."

"I don't just do this, you know. I do the proper stuff as well. Fighting and all that."

Hermione hid a smile. Boys were all the same.

"I know, Percy. But why are you based _here_, with all the Order paperwork? Is it safe?"

He smiled confidently. "It's very safe. You just try to pick something up."

Hermione reached up to the nearest shelf, but stopped before actually touching it. "If I get blown up, or squirted with Bubotuber pus…"

"It's perfectly safe."

"You just said that."

"Safe for you, I mean."

She shrugged, and put her hand through a file.

_Through_ a file?

There was nothing there. She could see everything still, but feel only thin air. Was it some sort of magical hologram? It was pretty impressive, whatever it was. Hermione ransacked her brain for an explanation but none was forthcoming.

"Ok Percy, I give in. How's it done?"

He smiled smugly. "It isn't really there. Everything you see is an optical illusion."

"Riiiiiiiiiiiiiiight. Very _clever_, but…"

"What's the point?"

"What's the point."

"Well, you see…" He reached up to the same file and picked it up. Hermione looked at it, and at him, in confusion.

"So now it _is_ there."

"Yup."

"Are you going to explain?"

He smirked. "It's kind of like a Portkey enchantment, but inverted and subverted and generally scrambled. All of this stuff is actually safe at Grimmauld Place, but if an Order member touches the hologram of an item the real thing is immediately summoned."

"Clever."

"I think so."

"Whose idea?"

"The twins', weirdly enough. They came up with the concept, Professor McGonagall and I set it up."

"Well, it's pretty amazing, Percy. Someday I'll get you to explain to me exactly how it works."

"Gladly."

"Just…"

"What?"

"Wouldn't it be a lot easier just for you to be at Grimmauld Place?"

She could almost see the shutters bang down inside his head, and knew immediately that the answer to that question did include secret Order information, which Percy was certainly not about to let slip. Quite right too, she reminded herself. The less people in on a secret, the safer it is. She only wished she wasn't so curious…

"It's very safe here, you know, Hermione. Moody himself has approved the security wards, and Charlie's even fixed it so suspicious owls can't fly anywhere near! We can floo out, but the network has been fixed so that the only access in is via Grimmauld Place, which is pretty near perfectly secured."

"Thorough," Hermione nodded. "Should have known." He hadn't answered her question, of course, but he had dodged it very neatly and given her some interesting information, for which she was grateful. "Thanks, Percy."

"Any time." They shared a smile of mutual understanding, and Hermione left him to his work. He seemed to be very good at it.


	6. Charlie

"Lulu?"

"Out here!"

"I'm escaping…" Bill emerged into the garden, where Lulu and Hermione were avoiding the chaos of the Romanian evacuation. "Do you want to come to the pub?"

"Definitely." Lulu scrambled up from the grass, where she had been expounding about Fauré to a wide-eyed Hermione. "Do they not need you in there?"

"You're joking. I'm supposed to have been running interference between Reprezentant and the Ministry all morning, but I'm worse than useless, not speaking the language. The best I can do is talk reassuringly to Blander, smile reassuringly at the Ambassador, and pray to God that Emily gets here soon. Which she has. And she says she'll be fine, so let's go!"

"Fine by me. It sounds horrendous in there."

"It is. Absolutely. At least the twins have disappeared, though, and Ron etcetera have tactfully made themselves scarce…"

"They're playing quidditch," filled in Hermione.

"Surprise surprise. But Percy's bustling about, and Mum…Emily'll sort it though. She didn't even look fazed."

"She'll be fine. But let's go, Bill, before we get dragged into the whole imbroglio."

"That sounds like a plan." He raised an eyebrow at Hermione. "Coming?"

"If that's ok…"

"Of course."

"Great! Erm… my bag's just upstairs…"

"Oh no." He took a firm grip of her arm. "You're not going in there. Mum will ambush you and try to get you to help, whilst Emily frantically tries to stop her – too many cooks, you know – but has to surrender because Mum is unstoppable. And you'll spend the afternoon frustrated and bored and end up on the verge of exploding, whereas if you'd just exercise a little caution we three could spend a happy hour or two away from the whole sorry affair. Now make the right choice here…"

She had to laugh. "Ok, what do you suggest?"

"I'll Apparate up if it's important. What do you actually need?"

"Just some money."

"I'll get it. I'm paying, though."

With a couple of loud cracks he disappeared and then returned, handing over her little rucksack with a flourish.

"Shall we go, ladies?"

"What a wonderful idea."

* * *

And it was wonderful. Bill and Lulu were obviously great friends, but Hermione's fear that she would be intruding was soon dispelled as it became clear that both of them took her presence as a matter of course, and a fortunate one at that. They had a good lunch, and talked companiably about everything but the war. Too good to last, of course. Although none of them had really expected the couple of hours that Bill had optimistically promised, the appearance inside The Happy Otter of a harassed-looking Charlie still elicited a chorus of quiet groans. Bill recovered the quickest and philosophically waved him over.

"Over here, you blasted harbinger of doom. What is it?"

"The Ministry's kicking up a fuss."

Bill buried his head in his hands.

"I know," continued Charlie, looking sympathetic. "But we need you, mate. Percy's too furious to deal with it, and poor Blander looks like he's going to burst into tears."

"Oh God, I'd better come, then." He stood and slung on his jacket. "How's Emily?"

"Oh, you know, Emily."

"Then there's hope for us all. See you two later, ok?" He nodded to the girls, then Disapparated, Charlie following a few seconds after.

Lulu sighed. "Happens every bloody time. Should we head back, too?"

Hermione grimaced. "I suppose so."

Lulu headed over to the bar, where, Hermione realised, she was paying for their meal. As she came back, Hermione scrabbled in her bag to find her purse.

"How much do I owe you?"

"Nothing."

"No, really."

"Really, nothing. Bill squared it when we arrived – I thought so, but it's as well to check." At Hermione's expression, she gave an almost tired laugh. "I know, I know. I've stopped arguing because it's a waste of the little time he's ever got. He left you a note, though."

Hermione, surprised, took the proffered scribble.

Hermione,

Lu's a musician, you're still at school, and I'm a jammy banker. Let me assuage my conscience, eh?

Bill

It was impossible not to laugh.

* * *

When Hermione and Lulu arrived back at The Burrow, only Charlie, Mundungus, Harry, Ginny and the still-green Ron were there. Charlie explained.

"There's been the most almighty mix-up with the Romanians. Everyone's at the Ministry trying to sort it out. Good luck to them."

Lulu looked puzzled. "Why are you still here?"

"Awaiting instructions. From the Ministry, Dumbledore, Romania, whoever cares to give them… It's a bloody mess, it really is."

"I'm sorry, Charlie."

"Oh, never mind. I'm better off here really, but I feel awful just leaving Em – Bill, as well. Everything seems to land on him, poor blighter."

"I know. But don't worry about Emily, she'll be fine. She'll be in her element."

Charlie looked noticeably more cheerful. "Taking a perverse enjoyment in Wackford's incompetence, probably."

"Almost definitely, I should say."

Ron could contain himself no longer. "Do you two realise that we've got no idea what you're talking about?"

"Sorry, mate," said Charlie, at once conciliatory. "Wackford's the bloke in charge of coordinating the foreign Aurors. Total idiot. I hate the man, I really do, but unfortunately everything has to go through him."

"It wasn't him here this morning, was it?" asked Harry.

"God, no. That was Blander. He works in the same Department, but he's got a bit of sense. Friend of Bill's. He was helping us to get things done quietly before Milliard found out. Tactfully inform him after the fact, you know, so that he couldn't interfere…someone put paid to that, though. When I find out who let it slip I swear I'll let Fred and George loose on them."

Ron looked ready to explode. Any mention of the twins, who had not yet found an antidote to his green-ness and actually found this funny rather than disastrous, enraged him. Anxious not to provoke him further, Hermione stifled her giggle and noticed Harry do the same. Ginny just rolled her eyes.

Lulu was still worriedly watching Charlie, and seemed torn between trying to say something comforting and changing the subject. Surprisingly, though, it was Mundungus who was first to speak.

"Wouldn't worry 'bout that. Plenty better things to worry about, eh?"

"I suppose so," agreed Charlie, strangely looking comforted by the reminder. "Talking of the more important things, shouldn't you be off, 'Dung?"

Mundungus just grunted and Disapparated in a cloud of his pungent tobacco smoke.

"Where's he gone?" asked Ginny innocently.

"Out."

* * *

Late that night, Mrs Weasley had returned, fussed over them a little, and then gone out again on Order business. Charlie was still sitting by the fireplace drinking endless cups of strong coffee, and Lulu was silently watching him. Harry and Ron had tried and failed to get going on some homework and Ginny was curled up on an armchair, looking half-asleep but in fact tense and edgy. Hermione had long ago cast aside Arithmancy of the Ancients, unnerved by the expectant atmosphere.

It was Lulu who finally broke the silence. "There's something else, isn't there Charlie? Don't tell me they're all still at the Ministry – it wasn't that important."

"It was important. But you're right, there is something else. They should be back by now. Someone should be back."

Another silence.

Lulu tried again. "What are they doing?"

"They weren't supposed to be doing anything – just helping set it up. The Aurors were meant to do the rest – that's why the Romanians left today – they were providing backup. We've been planning this for a week, ever since Dad did the recce with Snape and Lupin."

Harry started to say something, but was silenced by Lulu's quick gesture.

Charlie continued. "We found a house that the Death Eaters were using, that's what all this is about, but the operation wasn't planned for tonight. I don't know what the hell's happening…" He fell into a morose silence that was all the more alarming because Charlie had thus far managed to stay cheerful through everything. He never got worried, never.

Lulu was anxiously chewing her lip and glancing uncertainly at the younger ones, obviously unsure what to do with them. Harry had suddenly gone very white, and Ron…well, it was impossible to tell. Hermione felt like she was floating. She wasn't worried, although she knew she should be absolutely terrified. She surmised that the situation had not yet sunk in for her, and was dreading the moment when it did.

Luckily, the moment never came.

* * *

"Charlie?" The voice was Arthur Weasley's, and it prompted his children to jump straight up and run out of the room towards it.

Harry and Hermione heard with relief the exchange at the door.

"Dad, what…"

"It's fine, everything's fine – I'm so sorry we're late. You must have been…"

"It doesn't matter. What happened? Oh, never mind, come in and sit down, first. Is everyone…oh, here they are. We're all through here." Charlie re-entered smiling, followed by a troop of tired-looking Weasleys plus Emily, refreshed as ever. Bill was gazing at her incredulously, and Percy visibly simmered with pure envy.

All collapsed readily into chairs and sofas, and Lulu disappeared quietly into the kitchen, returning almost instantly with sandwiches and mugs of tea, which they fell onto ravenously. Ten minutes later, everyone seemed much better and Charlie was looking expectantly at Mr Weasley.

"I'm sorry, son. It was nothing really…"

"Except a bloody pain in the neck," muttered Percy darkly.

Mr Weasley gave a slight smile. "Well, yes. After we'd sorted things out at the Ministry, and at…" A glance at the avidly curious non-Order members. "…Headquarters, we couldn't Floo back because…well, Grimmauld Place was rather busy."

Charlie gave a nod of understanding. "But you could Apparate."

"No," said Bill. "Only to five miles outside the village. Moody's put a block up, but never bothered to mention it."

"We Apparated this morning!"

"Yes, but just from the village. That's alright, apparently. The block is meant to stop undesirables from further afield."

"So they Apparate to the five-mile boundary, step over it, and Apparate up here!"

"That's why the block is going tomorrow," interposed Mr Weasley. "But that wasn't the worst of it."

"My God, what _was_?"

"Well, after we'd walked the five miles – we didn't realise, you see, we just thought that something very funny must be going on – and then made our way up here, we couldn't get near the house."

"You what?"

"The night-time wards."

"Wait a minute," cut in Ron. "You mean the wards _protecting_ the house stopped you _getting in_ to it?"

The slightly embarrassed silence told all.

"We tried for almost two hours," said Emily conversationally. "All of us together, and we even knew what the wards were. This security is just fantastic."

Harry looked as if he were trying to work something out. "But how are you meant to get in? I mean, yeah, obviously, it's great that other people can't break in, but isn't it a bit inconvenient if _we_ can't? Am I missing something here, or what?"

Mr Weasley again looked apologetic. "Passwords," he said shortly.

Charlie breathed out slowly with a grin of understanding. "_None_ of you checked the passwords?"

Another eloquent silence. Even Emily appeared momentarily uncomfortable.

He shook his head with hardly-concealed amusement. "You had better pray that Moody doesn't find out."

* * *

"You see," Charlie explained to Hermione and Harry the next day, "the passwords to bypass the security wards change daily, and they're only accessible from here, Headquarters and Hogwarts. No-one checked before they left because they didn't expect to need them." He leaned back comfortably. "Bit of a cock-up, really."

Charlie was again acting as the Burrow's liaison between Headquarters, the Ministry, Romania and a dozen other places where the Order was preparing their operation. Between the frantic periods when he was quickly relaying messages, instructions and suggestions he had nothing to do, but could not, of course, leave. For someone more at home outside than in, acting than waiting, it was incredibly frustrating, and they had taken pity on his obvious boredom by keeping him company whilst Ron was de-greened. Charlie was returning the favour by filling them in more on the events of last night.

"Bill told me that once they realised they were going to have to break in, him and Emily quietly owled Lupin for the passwords. Bill's seen Mad-Eye's security before, you see. It was a bit of a hassle – they had to call an owl, because obviously they don't carry them around and Ottery's a muggle village…"

"What do you mean, call an owl?" asked Harry. "Like calling the Knight Bus?"

Charlie grinned, and pulled out a sort of wooden flute from his pocket. "No, like using a muggle bird whistle. Me and Hagrid made them for everyone in the Order. They call the Order owls."

"God, you've got_ everything_, haven't you?" marvelled Harry.

Hermione silently agreed as she examined the whistle. It was obviously made to exact dimensions for the perfect sound, and the magic with which it was clearly imbued gave a warm tingle to the wood. Birch, she thought, with a mouthpiece of dark ebony. Also very beautiful, though with a simple design. "It's lovely, Charlie."

He shrugged. "It's useful."

"Where are the Order owls kept?" Harry put in curiously.

Charlie gave a wide grin. "They're not _kept _anywhere. They just fly about freely in any areas where we're working. They're perfectly safe, because they don't carry secure information, just general messages."

"Passwords aren't secure information?"

"Lupin didn't just send the passwords. He Apparated over – or tried to. He had to walk, obviously, from Moody's block, but thank God he did get here or they'd have been stuck all night. It was him who found out about the block, apparently – guessed straight away it was old Mad-Eye's doing and owled him. Obviously he was kind enough not to explain the exact situation, which saves us quite a lot of embarrassment but meant Moody didn't come charging over last night to fix the block, just said he'd do it in the morning. Which he hasn't, but I suppose he's busy enough today."

The fireplace started to glow green, and Charlie was instantly alert. "Sorry, do you mind…"

"Yeah, sure," replied Harry quickly, and they left to check on Ron. On the way, Hermione checked a little as she was hit by a sudden realisation.

Harry looked at her, concerned. "You alright?"

She nodded absently. Should she tell him? The green light of the Floo flame had suddenly connected together in her mind several memories from the last few days. Taken apart, they meant nothing. Taken together, they still meant almost nothing, but they gave a small clue to the mystery that she, Harry, Ron and Ginny had been wondering about all summer. It was almost nothing, but it was interesting. Should she tell him?

* * *

A/N You've seen all the relevant memories, and if you want to have a guess at what she figured out, drop me a line at also kind of desperate for people to check out my new blog - here's the link http/ as usual, I'd really appreciate reviews. Thanks for reading! 


	7. Snape not a Weasley

…Our place has become a sort of centre for the Order, I'm not sure what's happening with Grimmauld Place…

…Snape's _never_ here, thank God…

…a glow of green flame went unnoticed. The figure appearing out of the fireplace, however, was impossible to miss…The silky tones of Professor Snape were unmistakable, as was the severe, black-garbed figure…

…"The work he's doing for the Order is amazing"…

…the arrival of Lupin and Snape in the fireplace…

…Snape was in the fireplace…

…"Wouldn't it be a lot easier just for you to be at Grimmauld Place?"…the answer to that question did include secret Order information…

…"the network has been fixed…only access in is via Grimmauld Place"…

…"we couldn't Floo back because…well, Grimmauld Place was rather busy"…

Snape was at Grimmauld Place. He was doing something important for the Order, something secret. Something so secret that it needed him to be at the Order's unplottable Headquarters, alone.

Hermione remembered what Snape had revealed to Harry during one of his Occlumency lessons. That his job was to work out Voldemort's intentions. Was this the same job that he had been sent to do straight after Voldemort's return? That Dumbledore had looked so apprehensive about? Harry and Ron thought that Snape was spying again for the Order, but she had never been so sure. She could not believe that Voldemort would ever again trust someone who had betrayed him so spectacularly – not for self-interest and self-preservation like Lucius Malfoy but, she assumed, for principle, and for Dumbledore. No other former Death Eater had aligned themselves with the Headmaster, the only one Voldemort had ever feared. None would dare, unless it was for principle, for belief in doing the right thing. How, then, could Snape be spying again? Harry had once said that, after his return, Voldemort had pledged to kill the Death Eater that had left him forvever. It had to be Snape. He knew Snape had betrayed him and his Death Eaters, Dumbledore had testified to it in front of the Wizengamot.

But still…one would assume from that that the Death Eaters would have hated Snape ever since Voldemort's first defeat. But Snape was friendly with the Malfoys, or had been. He favoured Draco at school, and…well, he acted strangely whenever Lucius' name was mentioned. Sirius had taunted him about Lucius, about being his "lapdog" – but why? Of course, Snape hadn't betrayed Lucius. Lucius got away with everything, pleaded innocence and Imperius. Hmm. Something else to think about.

But what was Snape doing now?


End file.
